


Miro Klose and the 5 leagues that were after him (and the one he chose).

by kopfkino



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8257298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopfkino/pseuds/kopfkino
Summary: Where will he play next season? His contract with Lazio expired last summer. Klose gave nothing away regarding his future, though he insisted he will not retire.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i just had to do something because miro is currently living in munich-- (close to... thomas...)

1\. _Was it at 12 or 1 pm?_ Thomas doesn't remember. He swears Miro said 12, but he's nowhere to be seen. Maybe he missed him? Or perhaps he left already and thought Thomas had forgot. He frowns: he wouldn't forget. He looks up at the incoming plane arrivals scanning for that particular place. Rome. He spots it, and stops when he notices the word next to it.

_DELAYED_

He relaxes. He's still on time then. About ten minutes later, he feels someone pat his shoulder. He turns to find no one else than the German Polish striker standing in front of him, a suitcase in hand and glasses on his nose. 

Thomas can't help it. He grins and jumps on him. "Miro!" 

Miro hugs him back, gently, rubbing his back. "Thomas," He settles, but he's smiling. "My flight was delayed, sorry to keep you waiting." 

"It's okay." He replies, awkwardly pulling his luggage from his hands.

 

After the suitcase is safely secured in the trunk, Miro gets inside the passenger's seat. He's surprised to find Thomas with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

"Thomas?" He lets out, incredulous, but at the same time moved. It's very unlike Thomas to have brought him  _flowers_ out of all things. He seems satisfied with Miro's expression, because he places the flowers in the backseat and turns the key in.

"It's nice to be home," He lets out, as they drive away. Thomas hesitates. 

"I wish you had arrived earlier, I'm leaving tomorrow."

It's time for Die Mannschaft to try once more to get the European title. After their World Cup success, it's what everyone expects from the team. It's a terribly hard thing for Miro, to have to stay behind and watch as a spectator. He's always known the first tournament after his retirement would be a hard one. He wishes he could take it like Fips or Per, both of them looking forward to watching the games from their barbecues, but for Miro it's impossible. 

"I'll score a goal for you." Thomas lets out, guessing the thoughts that must be going through his mind.

Miro smiles, at least he still has Thomas next to him, after all these years. "You focus on winning that cup." 

The Bavarian nods, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and maybe it is. "Anyway--" He's going to go somewhere Miro had hoped he'd avoid. "What have you thought?"

"About what?" He tries to run around the bush, but Thomas isn't buying it. "The club situation." He clarifies. 

Miro doesn't reply at first, "You must know what club you're going to pick--" Thomas continues. He shakes his head. "I don't know yet."

It's a bit hard on Thomas, Miro knows. As much as everyone knew his careless side, who apparently didn't stress much, Thomas cared a lot about these decisions. Miro had come to know that Miro's career mattered to him as much, if not more, than his own. "You should at least have an idea of the country, I've heard all sorts of rumors: MLS, Bundesliga, Asia, India-- hell, even Bundesliga II!"

He sighs, "It's not that easy."

Thomas sighs with him. He's right, Lazio and the Italian league were perfect for him, as much as he hates to admit it. Even if they were apart, Rome was never too far from Munich. They were still in the same continent and able to visit each other without nobody really realizing their absence. Now, the thought of Miro going to America, India or China scared him. The time difference for one, was drastically different. He didn't fancy the thought of not having those late night conversations anymore. 

In any way, this was Miro's career that they were talking about. He would support him until his final decision, no matter where he chose to go. They would work it out, the same way they dealt with him moving away from Munich, the same way they dealt with him retiring from the national team. 

"What about MLS?"

"America." Miro nods, having contemplated this option entirely. 

"It works for Steven Gerrard and Xabi."

"How do you--" He starts, but then-- Thomas does talk a lot. It shouldn't be a surprise if he had managed to find out about his teammates relationship. Thomas ignores the interruption. "Plus-- they're really respectful in America, so I've heard. If any legend deserves that amount of respect, it's you Miro."

"I've still got time to think it over-- right now I'm going to focus on the EURO 2016 if you don't mind," Miro smiles, trying to lighten up the mood. 

Thomas gives in, considering they're arriving to Miro's place. He never sold it, probably waiting someday to come back to Germany. Thomas wishes he could come back to FC Bayern too, but that's too much wishful thinking on his part that will get him nowhere.

"Thanks for the lift." Miro says, but doesn't move. He's satisfied with the view of Thomas he has from there. Thomas, in return, gives him a half smile. 

Before Miro can reply, Thomas jumps. "Oh shit-- I almost forgot." He turns around and climbs a bit so he can find something in the back seat. 

"I brought this from Spain, I saw it and I had to get it for you."

It's a fishing bait, beautifully decorated with ornaments on the sides, Miro looks like he's been given a star. He takes it in his hands, and gently observes it. Thomas adds. "It's for all the fishing you're bound to do while I'm away!" 

Miro's grinning widely now, and without hesitation, leans in and drops a soft kiss on Thomas' lips. It's a chaste kiss, but it's enough to make them both smile. 

"Welcome home--" Thomas adds, while Miro checks his new toy out. 

 

* * *

 

2\. The number rings, rings, and rings. 

"WE BEAT ITALY!" He yells as soon as the line picks up. Miro laughs, 

"Congratulations!" He replies, almost automatically. "You should be celebrating with the others, not calling this cadaver!" 

The music is loud behind him, filled with the euphoria well deserved. Thomas ignores him, and goes on cheering. "We broke the curse! Broke the curse! Nanana! Can you believe!" 

"I can't believe--" He agrees, "I'm so happy for you Thomas--"

They have a nice moment, Thomas tells him the moment isn't as perfect with him not there beside him, which reminds Miro of something. "By the way, I turned down an offer today."

"Which one?" Thomas gasps. 

"The India offer, I-- I just found it too far I guess. They needed a reply, so I ruled them out." 

"Does this mean you know where you're going?" He teases, knowing the obvious answer. Miro laughs, and tries to defend himself. "Hey, it's a step."

"A baby step, but still a step." Thomas agrees, still not really convinced.

Manuel passes right next him-- stops at the sight of Thomas on his phone, and realizes who must be on the other line. He jumps on Thomas, and takes the device from his hands--

"HEY MIRO! DID YOU SEE US?" He's impossibly drunk, Thomas figures, too drunk to actually hear Miro's reply, so he manages to take the mobile back from the 2m tall goalkeeper. 

"Sorry about that--"

Miro's laughing, "He deserves it after those penalty kicks." Thomas' expression softens. 

"You would have scored that penalty kick." He lets out, out of nowhere. He hasn't had nearly as much to drink as Manu and the others, so there's no reason why he has to let out that weight _now._  There's a silence, as if Miro understands everything behind those seven words. He doesn't even have to say another word. 

"Thomas--"

"I'm sorry, I-- I didn't mean--" He babbles, knowing exactly what is coming. 

"It happens to the best of strikers. Don't doubt yourself,"

"I'm going to step down taking penalties" He admits. "I talked to Jogi about it."

A muffled sound comes from the other side, "I can't even score penalty kicks anymore Miro." 

"Thomas, listen to me." He does. If there's something Miroslav always manages to do, is to make Thomas listen to him. "A few goals do not define the talent you are. Jogi has had a hard situation with the team, but you're _Die Mannschaft_ , you will be able to figure it out together."

"I just think sometimes I don't even deserve to be called up."

"If we hadn't had you in Brazil, we wouldn't have won--" He stops, then laughs softly. "I wouldn't have my record."

It's a low blow, because he knows Thomas cares more about that silly top scorer record more than himself. The young midfielder finally laughs, and it's music to his ears. "I love you Miro, and _that_ record is very important."

"I love you too." 

 

The next days, when Miro tells Sport1 that he's sure that he'll score against France because  _he knows him too well,_ Manuel does not let him live out of all the teasing. 

  

* * *

 

 

3\. Miro isn't at the airport when he's back. They agreed to this because of the paparazzis, even so, Thomas can't wait to find him. He's exhausted. Mats pats his shoulder, Thomas isn't quite used to having him around yet. Mats Hummels playing with them will take some time getting used to. 

"I read a couple of Bundesliga clubs are interested in your boyfriend, one specially interesting." He winks, and Thomas laughs,  _as if he hadn't read the exact same rumors._

His Bayern teammates are in the States, so it's pretty quiet at the training grounds. A sense of belonging passes through him as he walks out the gates. Do all footballers feel the same with their clubs? It's time for his well deserved vacation. He calls Miro once he's home, but there's no reply. He ponders-- where could he be? 

"If I were Miro--" The thought comes to him as easy as anything. He sighs, and takes his coat before opening the door.

 

Thomas smiles at the satisfaction of being right, once more, the moment he spots Miro arriving ashore from his boat. His eyes light up when he sees Thomas, casually waiting for him.

"You're home! How did you find me?"

"You've been fishing at the same spot for the past 6 years-- are you serious?" 

Miro makes a defeated sound, as he gets out of the water, and pulls his bucket out of the boat. It's full of fish, as usual. "I lost track of time," He apologizes, 

"It's okay," He smiles, and drops a kiss on his lips. "It's so nice to have you here-- in Munich, with me." 

His lips curve upwards, as he turns to put the chain on his boat. Thomas takes the time to sit down in front of the water, only to have him join shortly after. The sun has started to set, and Miro gives him a soft pat.

"Are you feeling better?"

Thomas looks at him, and Miro gives him an apologetic look. "Yeah," He shrugs.  "It was bad luck. Too bad Basti had to go like that." 

"What do you mean?"

"He's retiring, told me so at the airport."

Miro knows how touchy retirement as a subject is for Thomas. "Lukas is surely to follow him." The Bavarian nods,

Thomas starts again, "I read a rumor... that Bayern wants you too, as Lewy's back up in case something happens. I talked to Karl--"

A silence, which is far more than enough for an answer.

"But you're not going to take it-- I know you too well."

"What?" Now it's Miro's turn to be surprised. "How do you--"

"I just do," He smiles, and Miro sighs.

"I don't think it'll be Bundesliga, Thomas. It's too demanding, and I'm too old." 

It hurts a bit, but a part of Thomas had known that if Miro wanted Bundesliga, he would have said so earlier. He nods, having prepared for this.

"I'll support any decision you make." He means it. 

Miro moves a hand to his hair, and pets it gently. "Thank you-- but for now, let's focus on the fact I'm not leaving Munich yet. Are you going to accompany me fishing anytime soon?"

He laughs, and shakes his head. "Come on, Miro. You know I can't catch fish, I have a better chance to get into your pan-"

"Thomas!" Miro interrupts, but unable to hide the smile. 

 

* * *

 

 

4\. "You have to turn the microphone on." He types on the machine, for Miro to see. Skyping with Miro has always been a complicated affair. He laughs as he can see a truly concerned expression through his small camera. It's bordering adorable. 

"Get Noah or Luan to help you." He adds to the chat. It's not long before a young child is talking to his father and helping him out.

"Hello Thomas!" Noah greets happily. Success. Thomas waves back, as Miro tells him to go back to his room. 

"I'm sorry." He apologizes as soon as his son is out of the room. Thomas laughs and shakes his head.

"You know, I'm still baffled that you decided to go on vacation to Italy-- after living there 5 years. You're a real original thinker."

He shrugs, "It's a beautiful place." And that's something not even Thomas can deny. "What's new with you?"

"Not much, Bundesliga just started, we beat Bremen 6-0." 

He nods, "Yes, I did watch."

"Which reminds me, Miro, the transfer window closes in two weeks."

Miro sighs, knowing exactly that he was going to bring it up. Thomas insists. "You haven't forgotten, have you?"

"I don't know yet,"

"Are you retiring?"

The question is as sharp as the glare Thomas shoots him from his side of the conversation. He doesn't understand how technology can work so well to transmit emotions. "It's okay if you are," He adds, to make it sound less of a demand. 

"I don't know." Miro replies, he truly doesn't know. There's so many offers, it's overwhelming. What Miro really wants is an entire different thing. 

"What about Australia? I heard the A-league wants you! And it's a really beautiful place." 

"I guess it is." He agrees, nonchalantly. "Thomas-- I just miss being young."

He doesn't just miss being young, he misses being called up for international break, he misses doing his somersault, hugging his teammates. He misses scoring goals, the feeling of the crowds raging behind them, the euphoria of winning a match. He can close his eyes and feel the german crest on his heart. 

It's Thoma's smile who brings him back. "Any league would be thankful to have you, Miroslav Klose, top scorer of the world at his disposal. "

He focuses on it for a moment, then the familiar feeling of easiness comes flowing back to him. Maybe that's why he can't let go of Thomas: he makes him feel young again. 

"Why thank you, Thomas Müller, one of the best players of the world."

"You're welcome-- Say, when are you coming back?" 

"In a week," He waits until Thomas nods, to add. "Don't worry, there's still plenty of fish to catch." 

This time, Thomas breaks into laughter, and nods. "Sure, there are." But he sighs, and Miro misses why.

"It's nothing, I just miss you" Thomas says. He tries to remember that if Miro doesn't pick a club, he'll be close to him, at Munich. Somehow Thomas can't fully be happy about this: he can't be selfish with Miro.

 

* * *

 

 

5\. There's a heavy sigh, and Thomas can't help but grin. Miro watches the replay on TV, shaking his head. There's a lot of blood on Bayern Munich's 25 face, and it's not exactly a pleasant sight. 

"Did it _have_ to be on the same spot from two years ago?" He adds, exasperated. Thomas was expecting this reaction from him. As tempting as it is to let him continue fuzzing over him, he has to step in. 

"I'm okay Opa, it's just a scratch."

He remembers how Miro was upset about him getting hurt during the last World Cup. Flashbacks of Miro's hands all over him, keeping him focused from the hit. It's a hard set of memories to forget. 

"Please be more careful," He urges him, and Thomas nods. 

"You know-- you're not looking at it the right way. Maybe it was just some cry or warning to get a certain striker to take care of me again..." 

This time, Miro laughs openly, not completely surprised at the way Thomas winks with the wound on his face. He continues. "Thomas Müller just needs his World Cup top scorer sometimes on the pitch next to him..."

Miro rolls his eyes in a fun way, "There are  _other_ ways to get that." 

"None of those have worked so far." He pouts, pretending to not notice the way Miro is now watching him, incredulous. 

" _And this one has_?" He raises an eyebrow, but eventually shakes his head. "If you're so persistent I guess a visit to the Allianz wouldn't hurt."

The smile turns into a wicked grin, while the younger man strikes. "You mean that?" 

Miro shrugs, giving in to Thomas' desires had turned into habit now. "I think you're facing PSV in the Champions League?"  Thomas manages to sit up from the bed on his knees and places his face inches away from Miro's. He's aiming for his lips, but instead Miro drops a soft kiss on his bandage. It earns an honest smile from Thomas.

"Always taking care of me.." He lets out in a small voice, not specifically directed at anyone. 

"I've decided where I'm going this year." 

It takes Thomas by surprise, "You mean your club?"

Miro raises one hand and places it on his shoulder. "I think I like it here-- with you."

He doesn't follow. The hand lingers there for a moment, before moving to cup his cheek. "Thomas, I'm staying in Munich."

"Are you retiring?" It's the first sentence that comes to his mind, but Miro shakes his head. "Not sure-- but for now, this is where I want to be. I pick FC Thomas Müller, or the Müllerliga."

Thomas can't help it, he laughs at that last bit. Miro joins him with a smile, before getting up from the bed. "I'll get you some more ice." 

"Miroslav Klose to Müllerliga-- wait until Manu hears about _that."_

A quiet laugh echoes from the hallway, and for the first time in a while, Thomas can't quite believe what he was just told. "Wait-- that's doesn't count as a real choice!" He shouts, realizing the fact that sadly, the Müllerliga hasn't been installed yet. 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i finished this mainly because 1. thomas hurt his face (again) in the same spot where miro took care of him in the wc 2014 and 2. miro was at the allianz exactly the next match after that had happened
> 
> cries into my miro thomas feels


End file.
